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#my-creations
vidvana · 2 years
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Ildari... bleeding to her death - or having the sickest pleasure in her life.
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I love drawing her. Gore, pain, death, mental diseases and falling from grace look so... natural on her.
(+ being a Cradle of filth enjoyer, I love the aesthetics of blood-smeared witches)
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bloodybellycomb · 5 months
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One massive, legitimate way to improve as a writer or artist or in any creative endeavor really, is to become absolutely obsessed with something and to allow yourself to be weird about it. Genuinely mean this btw.
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hamletthedane · 3 months
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I was meeting a client at a famous museum’s lounge for lunch (fancy, I know) and had an hour to kill afterwards so I joined the first random docent tour I could find. The woman who took us around was a great-grandmother from the Bronx “back when that was nothing to brag about” and she was doing a talk on alternative mediums within art.
What I thought that meant: telling us about unique sculpture materials and paint mixtures.
What that actually meant: an 84yo woman gingerly holding a beautifully beaded and embroidered dress (apparently from Ukraine and at least 200 years old) and, with tears in her eyes, showing how each individual thread was spun by hand and weaved into place on a cottage floor loom, with bright blue silk embroidery thread and hand-blown beads intricately piercing the work of other labor for days upon days, as the labor of a dozen talented people came together to make something so beautiful for a village girl’s wedding day.
What it also meant: in 1948, a young girl lived in a cramped tenement-like third floor apartment in Manhattan, with a father who had just joined them after not having been allowed to escape through Poland with his pregnant wife nine years earlier. She sits in her father’s lap and watches with wide, quiet eyes as her mother’s deft hands fly across fabric with bright blue silk thread (echoing hands from over a century years earlier). Thread that her mother had salvaged from white embroidery scraps at the tailor’s shop where she worked and spent the last few days carefully dying in the kitchen sink and drying on the roof.
The dress is in the traditional Hungarian fashion and is folded across her mother’s lap: her mother doesn’t had a pattern, but she doesn’t need one to make her daughter’s dress for the fifth grade dance. The dress would end up differing significantly from the pure white, petticoated first communion dresses worn by her daughter’s majority-Catholic classmates, but the young girl would love it all the more for its uniqueness and bright blue thread.
And now, that same young girl (and maybe also the villager from 19th century Ukraine) stands in front of us, trying not to clutch the old fabric too hard as her voice shakes with the emotion of all the love and humanity that is poured into the labor of art. The village girl and the girl in the Bronx were very different people: different centuries, different religions, different ages, and different continents. But the love in the stitches and beads on their dresses was the same. And she tells us that when we look at the labor of art, we don’t just see the work to create that piece - we see the labor of our own creations and the creations of others for us, and the value in something so seemingly frivolous.
But, maybe more importantly, she says that we only admire this piece in a museum because it happened to survive the love of the wearer and those who owned it afterwards, but there have been quite literally billions of small, quiet works of art in billions of small, quiet homes all over the world, for millennia. That your grandmother’s quilt is used as a picnic blanket just as Van Gogh’s works hung in his poor friends’ hallways. That your father’s hand-painted model plane sets are displayed in your parents’ livingroom as Grecian vases are displayed in museums. That your older sister’s engineering drawings in a steady, fine-lined hand are akin to Da Vinci’s scribbles of flying machines.
I don’t think there’s any dramatic conclusions to be drawn from these thoughts - they’ve been echoed by thousands of other people across the centuries. However, if you ever feel bad for spending all of your time sewing, knitting, drawing, building lego sets, or whatever else - especially if you feel like you have to somehow monetize or show off your work online to justify your labor - please know that there’s an 84yo museum docent in the Bronx who would cry simply at the thought of you spending so much effort to quietly create something that’s beautiful to you.
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sunday-ruby · 5 months
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NCUTI GATWA | The Giggle
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lgbtlunaverse · 3 months
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There's a version of the "don't go grocery shopping while hungry" rule specifically for writers where you should never under any circumstances be allowed to touch your draft within 3 hours of reading a really good story. Because sometimes when you read something great your head goes "fuck this is so much better than my stuff I should make that more like THIS instead!" Look at me. That's the devil talking and you should close the document NOW.
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buggachat · 10 months
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best. dad. ever.
bonus:
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obsob · 8 days
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the joy of creation :3 !! (anything worth doing is worth doing badly)
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mobius-m-mobius · 6 months
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#the Nowhere Man who waits and the God of Stories who watches
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theylorswift · 7 months
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Anyway, go ahead and blow your brains out, but your last act on this planet will be surrendering to a woman... Or we could have drinks.
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astrhae · 9 months
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crowley used the metal tool in season 1 to start time, and we learn that he's used it first to start space. to create the stars -- he still remembers how. he still remembers all of heaven's passwords: in the book crowley is described as an optimist because he has the "utter surety... that the universe would look after him". not god, but the universe. and of course he does: he helped create it and he's looking after it, too.
think about it: aziraphale had a sword, but crowley is about to face satan who wants to destroy the world, and crowley's only weapon is a tool of creation
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pen-of-roses · 6 months
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Do y'all ever think about how cool it is that art inspires other art inspires other art inspires other art in an endless cycle
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toyducks · 2 months
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made my own prefall/angel lucifer design
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frog-chemicals · 1 year
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Part 2!
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notherpuppet · 11 days
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Young Seraphims
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foone · 1 year
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Want to see the worst keyboard I've made? No?
Too bad!
Here's the Hair Keyboard. I built this in 2020. It's basically just a relatively standard QWERTY membrane-dome keyboard, but it's got a very unique look, thanks to a lot of time spent with glue and fake fur from a hobby store. It took a LONG time to comb this thing into usability, and I cannot describe how it feels to type on.
An overall picture:
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Some horrible pre-combing shots:
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Bad Hair (Keyboard) day:
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Fun fact: Posting this is causing my music to skip. I think my computer can't handle even the image of the Hair Keyboard.
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birdmans · 1 month
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 Winter Love — H.D
insp (x)
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